


Que Será Será (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)

by Hootax



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Dark Humor, Drug Use, Eventual Relationships, Humor, M/M, No Gore, OC, Original Player Characters, Romance, Slice of Life, Strong Language, Writer's Block, i mean eventual horror, just spooky stuff, prolly more townspeople will be added if i decide to throw them in too, some horror, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:52:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7633828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hootax/pseuds/Hootax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The move to his grandfather's valley was supposed to be Carlyle's attempt to escape the daily grind at a dead end job. He wanted to leave behind old faces and old habits, to get the clean slate that so many people deserve but never get the chance to have. He has no idea how to be a farmer, but without any other plans for his life, he's willing to take the leap. Under his hand, the farm might flourish or it might flop. His heart is open to the land and its inhabitants. He's not a terribly complicated guy. </p>
<p>If he has success, he'll celebrate. If he uncovers secrets, he'll do what he can to find the root of the truth. If his baggage catches up with him, he'll run with it. If he finds someone to share his life with...well, he'll run with that too. Que Será Será.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breathing in the Old

**Author's Note:**

> This story is meant to help me break out of the writer's block that's been plaguing me for the past few years. I want to have fun with it just as I want my audience to enjoy reading it. Please feel free to offer feedback and criticism! This game took over my life.

With as many oddities Carlyle had seen on his trip to Stardew Valley, he was a bit proud of himself when he was able to take the fact that there was a goat on the roof of his new home in stride. It stared at him with a pair of amber eyes, chewing some weeds between its teeth and bleating defiantly. Well, it had an entire salad bar to choose from by the looks of the field. Everything was overgrown. Gnarled trees and boulders made the farmland look more like a wilderness. 

"Welp, this is it!" chirped Robin beside him. She was grinning at him, but Carlyle couldn't decide whether it was out of pity or encouragement. She was just this side of middle-aged, managing to keep her hair a fiery red and her skin maintaining a youthful glow despite the crow's feet that were starting to grow at the corners of her eyes. A friend of his Grandfather's. Carlyle vaguely remembered her from his last trip to the Valley three years prior to visit the dying old man. 

He dropped his knapsack at his feet and rubbed his eyes. "Wonderful."

"Okay, so it will be some work, but you'll pull through! There’s good soil underneath all this mess. If your Grandpa could run this place, so can you," she said.

"Guess I'll have to," he said. "I hope he left me some tools because I don't have any. Didn't have much need for an axe in the city."

"I think I saw a box inside last time I was around to check the foundation. You should check there. He might have left something for you in storage," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "Speaking of foundation, once you're settled in, let me know if you want me to do some refurbishments. Er...I would  _ definitely recommend it _ since the property hasn't had much upkeep. I'll show you where my house is later. I've got some ideas for upgrades too, if you want more space in the future..."

There was a chuckle from the direction of the front door as an elderly figure stepped out to greet them. "Now, don't let her talk you into building a mansion in your first week here, my boy. She's just a bit eager for more business." 

Carlyle recognized him as Mayor Lewis. He'd seen a picture of the man and his grandfather, though he couldn't remember where. His family hadn't had much time for meet n’ greets before the funeral.

Carlyle ignored an indignant sound from Robin. "'Fraid I wouldn't be able to afford it anyway. I'm not going to starve, but I wasn't exactly a CEO of big business," he said.

"Are you telling me money doesn't grow on trees in the city? And here I thought the streets were paved with gold," Lewis said. His gray mustache twitched when he laughed at his own joke. "Well, don't you worry. Stardew Valley has ways of distributing its wealth to those who look for it. I don't think you'll have any problem here, though perhaps I can give you an advance in the mail if it will help."

Scratching the back of his head, Carlyle muttered, "You don't have to," although he wouldn't refuse if the Mayor wanted to lend a hand. The security deposit return on his apartment hadn't been as large as he hoped it would be and his last paycheck from work wouldn't be deposited into his account for another week. Even paying for lunch before the bus ride here had made him squeamish. 

In other words, he decided to make this huge change from urban to rural life while dirt poor. Ah well, wouldn't be that much different from the rest of his major life decisions over the past ten years. 

Lewis patted his back. Carlyle was starting to feel like a dog with all these people patting him. 

"Don't worry! I consider it recompense to your Grandfather for his many years of support to Pelican Town,” Lewis said. “We all mourned his loss. I’d go so far to say there wasn’t a dry eye in town!”

Robin raised her eyebrows at that. She smiled a bit mischievously. “Really, Mayor? That far?”

“Well, er, not everyone  _ sobbed _ per sae, but no one disliked him,” Lewis said.

Carlyle shrugged. “Sounds like the old man.”

“Forgive me, but I’ve completely skipped over introductions! I’m Lewis, Mayor of Pelican Town. You know, everyone’s been asking about you. It’s not every day that someone moves in. It’s quite a big deal! In return for the advance, I expect you to become a spirited member of our community! Wouldn’t you say that’s a fair trade?” Lewis said. “In fact, I’ll give you a challenge. If you introduce yourself to everybody in town, I’ll give you a reward! How does that sound?”

Carlyle considered this, gave a small smile, and shook hands with the Mayor. “Sounds like a deal.”

“Perfect! Now, come on, Robin. Let’s let him get settled in and rested,” Lewis said. He glanced up towards the roof of the house. “I’ll...er...I’ll contact Marnie about that goat to make things easy on you. She’s the rancher south of you. She’ll know what to do.”

~

What little Carlyle had in the way of belongings fit easily in the drawers of the cottage. The furniture had a few layers of dust and the windows needed a good wiping. Someone (maybe even Lewis) had recently run a hand over the top of the TV, leaving a clean streak behind. The entire place smelled musty, which didn't entirely bother Carlyle. Underneath that was an older smell, nearly faded away, of cigars and incense his grandfather had used to worship whatever God the people in Stardew Valley worshiped. Carlyle couldn't help but smile at the memories that scent brought back when he got to see his grandfather as a child. 

The TV even worked after all these years, giving him a grand library of three channels to choose from. The mattress next to the wall looked suspiciously new. Someone had decided to take the initiative and help him out in that department, for which he had to admit he was grateful. All he had to sleep on in his apartment was an old futon that felt like he was sleeping on a grill. He had a feeling his back would be much less stiff now. Still, out of old habit, he checked for bed bugs. As long as he kept the place clean, there shouldn't be a problem with roaches or anything else. 

He heard a bleat from the roof. The goat’s hooves clacked across the shingles as it moved from one side to the other. Carlyle rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to use a broom to pound on the ceiling to scare it off. He didn’t want to risk one of the ceiling beams coming loose and taking him out just when he was starting a new life from scratch.

The lack of a kitchen or a microwave was a bit disconcerting. How had his grandfather fed himself? Carlyle was by no means a chef, but he was definitely used to having at least some means to prepare some pizza rolls or TV dinner. He'd have to see if he could order something so he wouldn't waste away before he could afford a kitchen add-on from Robin. 

Unfortunately, ordering a microwave took time and his stomach was beginning to nag him. His bus driver had mentioned a saloon on the ride to town. That would at least take care of dinner. It was getting to be evening, so if the saloon was popular, he’d be able to meet some people and take care of the Mayor’s challenge too. Like hitting two birds with one stone.

~

The spaghetti that Gus the bartender served him was nothing too extravagant, but to someone who had survived off gas station sandwiches for months at a time, it was the most delicious thing he’d tasted since moving away from his parents’ home. By the end of the meal, he’d managed to chat up Gus enough to find out who and who would not be friendly enough to share a beer with (when he had enough money.) He now knew the regulars - the rambunctious Pam who slapped him on the back and nearly made him choke on a meatball, fisherman Willy who sat with the blacksmith Clint, and Shane. Just Shane, who eyeballed Carlyle from the corner and gave him a curt nod when he tried to say hi. If this was the nighttime crowd Pelican Town offered, Carlyle had good hopes for the daytime crowd around town. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

He made his way back along the road to the farm at around ten. His body was used to keeping later hours than this, but a day of travel had taken a lot out of him and he couldn’t stop yawning. The cicadas and crickets were deafening in the country; he hoped they didn’t keep him awake that night, as calming as they were to listen to. The streetlamps in town stopped a ways down the road, leaving him with the light from the half moon to navigate by. He had a penlight on his keychain, but didn’t bother bringing it out just then. He wanted to enjoy the walk on a warm spring night.

The Valley had a different feel to it. A beguiling sense of peace. Still, Carlyle found his fingers wrapping around the switchblade in his pocket, another old habit from walking city streets at night. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t have to use it upon returning to Orion Farm, but he would probably carry it around with him, nonetheless. 

The overhead light in the cottage flickered, but still cast a dim flow over the cottage, this time sans goat. He couldn’t hear hoofs clattering above him anymore. He hadn’t met Marnie yet, but he had to give her credit. She worked fast. 

He splashed a bit of water on his face from the bathroom sink and went to change for the night. It was while he was rummaging around in his drawers that he heard an all-too-familiar beeping noise coming from one of his pants. He fished around until he found the source and snorted. He’d stolen his Joja Corp. pager from work when he quit. He didn’t bother looking at the numbers. All of them were dated the day he left. There’s no way the device would pick up messages this far away. 

He could mail it back, but something told him they wouldn’t miss it. For all of their sermons on efficiency and resource management, he doubted that the pager had any more importance than he did. It had even been labeled with his employee number. 

Welp, since his number was out of their system, he’d do them a favor and get rid of the pager. He wanted to chuck it, and not in the toss-it-in-the-waste-basket sense. He wanted to  _ chuck it.  _ Way out in the sea, preferably, but it was too late to go back out and he was too tired to make the trek to find the shoreline. He remembered seeing a pond between the trees growing in the fields around the house, though. 

A few minutes later, he had to drag out his penlight to keep from stumbling as he picked his way through the weeds. By the time he found the pond, he was grumbling and picking burrs out of his pant legs. The moon sparkled on the pond’s surface. Best get this done and he would get to bed. He took a deep, slow breath of the field’s sweetness and tossed the pager into the darkness. The throw wasn’t as hard as he would have liked. If he’d been using his full strength, the pager would have cleared the pond. But it still made a satisfying  _ plop  _ when it hit the water. 

Carlyle snickered and ran his hands through his hair, turning his head upwards to stare at the sky. The spotted clouds were inching their way passed the moon. 

“Pops, what the hell am I doing with my life?” He snickered again, more half-heartedly, and set off back to the cottage.


	2. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlyle attempts to start clearing the farm and goes to meet more people in town, including Pierre the store owner, some reckless kids, and the doting local Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those who have shown interest in this story! I'm really grateful for your views, kudos, and comments! ;_;

A small part of Carlyle had hoped that the field would somehow clear itself out over night. Maybe a flood, a fire that would spare his house, even a tornado. Was this Valley in a tornado zone? Didn’t farmers have to know about the weather? Weren’t there charts and almanacs for this? He knew nothing about this!

He found the storage chest Robin mentioned and pulled out a bunch of fairly unremarkable and worn tools. There was something touching about seeing them; the thought that these were the tools his grandfather used to tame the land until he had grown too sick to lift them easily and work the soil. Parts of the field must have become overgrown long before the old man was forced into his death bed. In retrospect, Carlyle wondered if it would have been better for him to have stayed behind after the funeral and help out however he could. At least then his grandfather could have instructed him as to how this all worked directly.

That was in the past. If he wanted tips, there was a TV channel for that. The farmers and ranchers in town would know something too. That would require being...social. A skill which was not fostered by a reserved city life (Carlyle had lived with people he didn’t know before).

He scraped what leftovers he could for breakfast and went out to take on the field. Despite the wear and tear over the years, the tools held up quite nicely. He made three piles in front of the house for wood, fiber, and sap. When he got hungry, he made granola bars out of nuts, sap, and sugar the way his mother had taught him. Good thing she had, because he had the distinct feeling he would be living off of field snacks for a while.

With perseverance, he had managed to clear a sizable path to a small watering pond to the side of the field. It was noon by then and the sun had crawled to the peak of the sky. It was still early spring and the air probably wouldn’t warm up to uncomfortable levels until the afternoon. He wiped the sweat of his face with his sleeve and made to store the wood and fiber.

He could feel blisters forming underneath his gloves and when he finally gathered the courage to look at them, he winced. Oh yeah, this was going to take a while. It would be best to wait until they healed a bit before attempting clearing more if he didn’t want his hands turning into a bloody mess. Luckily, he had brought gauze with him from when he used to wrap his hands going to the gym in the city.

It was then that he noticed that a flag on the mailbox had been lifted up. It had two flags, apparently, one for incoming mail and one for outgoing. A corner of his mouth lifted a bit as he wondered who would possibly know he was even there to be sending him a letter. Maybe leftover spam mail meant for his grandfather. When he retrieved it, he was surprised to find the advance from Mayor Lewis. That was fast. Carlyle had been so busy with the field all morning that he forgot about the Mayor's promise and their deal.

With his hands promising mutiny later, now might be the best time to poke around town and buy some seeds. The road to town was more cheerful during the day than it was at night. There were people milling around on the streets. The moment he turned up, he was boosted to instant semi-celebrity status. The towns' nosy housewives surrounded him and shoved baskets of bread and pies into his arms, asking him questions all the while. Evelyn, the resident old dear, was tittering around the public gardens and commented about how handsome he was. It made Carlyle cough a bit shyly. Mayor Lewis waved to him while he watered his lawn. Pam was in a lawn chair in front of her house and yelled at him to come to the Saloon soon so they could have a drink together.

By the time Carlyle made it to Pierre's General Store, his head was spinning. So, this was small-town hospitality. Truth be told, he had always been low-key suspicious of small towns. Maybe he'd just seen too many horror movies with small towns hosted by their resident cults. The people of Pelican Town didn't seem so bad, at least.

The store looked homely enough, lined with shelves of cooking goods and seeds. The man behind the counter brightened up considerably the moment he entered.

“It’s the new farmer, am I right?! I was wondering when you’d find your way over here,” he said, beaming. “Come over here and we’ll get you some seeds. Luckily for you, I’ve got the best stock in town. Luckily for me, you might finally inject some life into the local economy!”

Carlyle frowned slightly. “Aren’t there any other farmers around here?”

“Well, not entirely. We have a rancher and my family has a little garden of our own, but your Grandpa was the last person to grow crops in bulk,” Pierre said.

Something about that made Carlyle nervous. “I probably won’t be at that level for a while yet. I had a flower box outside of my bedroom window and that’s about it.” A flower box that had been there since before he got his apartment and looked like a barren wasteland from day one.

“Worried about not having a green thumb? Don’t worry, that’s what fertilizer is for! We’ve got that too. You can buy one or two or twelve,” Pierre said. He had started grabbing seed packs off the shelves. “Spring seeds, spring seeds, I just stocked them yesterday. We’ll start you off with potatoes and parsnips...garlic...ooo, maybe some kale…”

“Uhh, I don’t have the whole field cleared away yet. Not that much room to plant a bunch...” Carlyle said, trying to keep a tally for the bill in his head.

“What? Oh! Oh, yes, terribly sorry,” Pierre said. He adjusted his glasses with a nervous chuckle. “Mustn’t get carried away. It’s just been a while since I had a customer who was another farmer. I mean, Demetrius is interested in plants, yes, but in a scientific way. Have you met him yet? No matter, I’m sure you will.” He started ringing up some seed packets from a selection Carlyle approved. “But someone like you living off the land? I’m sure we’ll be fast friends. I get new seeds during the summer and fall too so you can come back however you’d like. No need to go over to the JojaMart, really…”

Carlyle froze. “JojaMart?”

When he realized what he said, dismay leaked into Pierre’s expression. “Well, uh, yes. Awful place. Low quality seeds. Not as good as mine, I can guarantee.”

“I don’t doubt,” Carlyle said, darkly. “Where is it?”

“It’s on the other side of the river, just follow the road...You’re not going over there, are you?” Pierre said, looking more than a little put-out.

“Just curious. Used to work for them. Thanks for your help,” Carlyle said. He grabbed the seed packs and made his way out.

“We also have a larger backpack if you’re interested!” Pierre called after him, a bit desperately.

“I’ll check it out when I’m back later!” Carlyle called back, over his shoulder. The door fell shut behind him. He felt bad for doing this, but a dreaded curiosity had won him over. He wanted to see the mart. Fucking Joja Corp. had to be here too. It wasn’t enough to travel halfway across the country to get away from them, they had to pop up in the most obscure corner of the continent.

He found a bridge over the river and followed the road to a divide in the trees on the side. There was a pristine, blue building, sticking out of the nature surrounding it like a sore thumb. Everything was clean and industrious with a blocky shipment truck sitting next to a loading dock in the back.

It made Carlyle want to puke.

He approached the sliding front door and stepped into cheap air conditioning and generic pop music playing over the speakers. The walls were clean, sterile, and cold. The lady at the check-out counter was falling asleep, with her elbows on the counter and her chin in her hands. Shane from the Saloon the night before was stocking the shelves, scowling. The frown only deepened when he glanced up and saw who the ‘new customer’ was.

“Welcome to JojaMart! Is there anything we can help you with?” Came an unfittingly enthusiastic voice behind a nearby counter. The man had black hair and thin-rimmed glasses like Carlyle’s old boss.

“No,” Carlyle said.

The manager was undeterred. “Well, then perhaps we could interest you in a membership in case you’d like to return? Just one more and we can turn the rusty old community center into a warehouse!”

Carlyle shook his head. “No.”

He turned to leave, but not before he heard Shane snicker.

~

Carlyle's mood was officially spoiled for the evening. The only thing to buoy it was the thought that he had some food thanks to the kindness of the villagers. He wouldn’t starve just yet.

Up ahead, at the side of the bridge, a child was crying. He walked a bit faster until a trio of people came into view. A very pretty woman with red hair was tending to a boy clutching his knee. A girl with black hair and a purple dress fretted nearby, looking worried.

“...should be remembering not to walk on the walls like that! Your mother will get angry," the woman told the boy.

The boy was sniffing. “I’m fine! I can do it! I just...I just…”

The girl in the purple dress caught sight of Carlyle as he was walking up the road, gave a squeal, and hid behind the woman. “Miss Penny! There’s a stranger.”

“Hold on, Jas. It’s okay,” Penny said. She looked up, tucking her frazzled hair back from her face. “So sorry, sir! We’ll be out of your way in a moment.”

“Everything all right?” Carlyle said, pausing next to them. Jas hid her face in Penny’s skirt.

“Yes, Vincent was just trying to show how he could walk along the wall of the bridge and tripped and landed wrong. He’s lucky he didn’t fall into the river, but I think he might have sprained something,” Penny said.

Sure enough, there was a scrape on the site too.

“Mm...don’t have anything with me to help, I’m afraid,” Carlyle said, frowning at the injury.

“No, no! Don’t worry about it. The clinic is closer than his home so we’ll just pop over and get him bandaged up,” Penny said. She was looking between Vincent and a sizeable stack of books. “Vincent, if you climb on my back, I’ll just...um...carry the books.”

“I can carry something. I’ll be happy to,” Carlyle said, shifting the bag of seed packs to one arm.

A little line of distress ran across Penny’s face. “We don’t want to be a bother, really! You must be the new farmer, right? You’re probably busy and you’re already carrying so much stuff.”

“Miss Penny, it hurts!” Vincent wailed. Penny looked torn.

“Don’t let him carry Vincent, he’s a stranger!” Jas said.

Carlyle smiled good-naturedly. “Here, I’ll take the books if you want to carry him.”

“Yes, yes, let’s do that,” Penny said. Her frazzled appearance wasn’t improving. She knelt down and told Vincent to get on her back. He hooked his arms around her neck and she stood up with a huff, supporting his legs around her waist.

“You sure you’ve got him?” Carlyle said.

Penny had to adjust a bit more, but she smiled at him. “Yes, I’ve done this dozens of times before. Not to worry!”

Carlyle wasn't convinced, but he bent down to balance the pile of books in his other arm. His muscles had already been overworked a bit from clearing the field and he could tell they would be protesting before too long, but he didn’t say anything.

“Don’t drop any!” Jas told him before chasing after Penny, close at her heels. Carlyle chuckled to himself and followed.

The clinic was up the road and attached to Pierre’s store. Carlyle must have had so much on his mind earlier between being greeted by the villagers and storming over to JojaMart that he hadn’t noticed. A man with a green suit-jacket and a nurse were standing in the lobby and looked over when they entered.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Harvey!” Penny said, panting a little. “I have a patient for you.”

The doctor adjusted his glasses and came over as Penny sat Vincent on a chair in the waiting room. “What’s this? What happened?”

While Penny told him the entire story, Carlyle set down the books on a nearby table and shook out his arm. Jas scrambled up on the seat next to the table and folded her arms, eyeing him suspiciously. He tried to give her his most harmless smile. She stuck out her tongue at him and he bit back a laugh.

“...and he was kind enough to help me carry our things over here. Isn’t that right Mr...Carver? I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for your name but my mother mentioned meeting you at the Saloon,” Penny said.

“Carlyle. Name’s Carlyle,” he said.

“Well, you’ve proven yourself quite the hero, Mr. Carlyle,” Doctor Harvey said. It was hard to place his age at first glance. He might have been middle-aged, but he had a certain youth to him underneath the premature lines on his face and the unshaven scruff around his jaw. His hair straddled the line between unkempt and stylishly windswept. His jacket had brown patches on the elbows.

_Doctors._ Carlyle didn’t exactly have the best relationship with them. Most of the doctors he had seen over the years yelled at him for having bad posture or not exercising enough, having a bad diet, or smoking the occasional cigarette. This guy would probably be the same for all he knew.

Carlyle shrugged at the compliment. “‘S’no problem.”

Harvey rubbed his chin and glanced back at his nurse. “Maru, why don’t you take back our little patient and set him up. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Yes, doctor! Right away,” Maru said. She took Vincent’s hand. “Would you like to join us, Penny?”

Despite the pain in his knee, Vincent managed to pipe up as he, Penny, and Maru disappeared into a back room. “I’m not little!”

“Yes, you are!” Jas yelled. Then she caught sight of Carlyle looking at her and hid her face in her arms.

“The children seemed to be taking quite the liking to you, aren’t they?” Harvey said.

“Mm, guess you could say that,” Carlyle said.

Harvey gave him a polite smile. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Carlyle. I’m Harvey, the local doctor. I perform regular check-ups and medical procedures for all of the residents in Pelican Town. And now, as I understand you’ve just moved in! You’ll likely be one of my patients as well.”

“Yeah...I’ll try not to turn up too much in bad shape,” Carlyle said. “You won’t need to lose sleep over me.”

Harvey chuckled softly. Carlyle may have been imagining it, but he thought he heard an undercurrent of nervousness too. “I should be getting back to help my nurse, but do let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.”

Carlyle nodded and Harvey extended a hand to shake in goodbye. When Carlyle took it, though, Harvey’s expression changed. He frowned, peering down at where their hands were clasped.

“Why are your hands bandaged? Are you bleeding?” he said.

“What? No,” Carlyle said. “I’ve just got a few blisters from the work I did this morning.”

“A few blisters? Well, that’s better than the alternative,” Harvey said. He turned Carlyle’s hand so that his fingers were splayed and his palm face upwards. He glanced over his shoulder towards the back room. “Unfortunately, I don’t have enough time to inspect them now, but if you come back later…”

Carlyle debated on whether to withdraw his hand or leave it out. “It’s fine, really. I’ll probably just pop them when I get home.”

Harvey gasped a bit sharply. “Don’t do that, you’ll risk infection! Just let them rest. Don’t use your tools over the next few days if you can help it.”

Carlyle’s eyebrows rose. “I need to take care of my _farm_ somehow.”

“Well, just keep them wrapped up to protect them, then,” Harvey said. He let Carlyle’s hand go, albeit a little reluctantly. He pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Look, if you’re going to drain the blisters on your own - _which I don’t recommend_ \- then just be sure to apply antibiotic cream afterwards and change your bandaging every few hours.”

Just a minute ago, the man had been so professional and polite. This seemed to be another side of him. For some reason, Carlyle found it amusing.

“Whatever you say, Doc,” he said.

“You do have antibiotic cream, right? I can get you some if I need to,” Harvey said.

“Yeah, I’ve got some.”

“Good,” Harvey said. He straightened up. “I’ll be getting back to my young patient. Take care of yourself.”

Carlyle watched as he went into the back room where Vincent was waiting for him.

From the corner, Jas spoke. “You’d better listen to Doctor Harvey. He’s one of the nicest men in the whole world.”

“Oh yeah? Well, he doesn’t seem so bad, so I’ll be nice to him. I promise,” Carlyle said.

“You’d better.” She hid her face in her arms again.


	3. One with the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poking around an old building leads to some strange sightings and an even stranger meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning for some mentions of drug use later on in the chapter.
> 
> Also, more of my ETERNAL GRATITUDE for those of you reading this story.

Despite Doctor Harvey’s instructions, Carlyle still had to till the land so he could plant his newly obtained seeds. His hands bit back at him a bit, but he just gritted his teeth and moved on. By the time his lines were planted and watered, the sun was sinking low. These would be the only patches he would attempt for now until his hands healed back up and he could afford more seeds. His limbs were starting to feel a bit like rubber from the exertion of the day, so he was more than willing to go back into the cottage and devour a pie in front of the TV for the rest of the evening.

When he woke the next morning, his arms and legs screamed at him. Compared to the entire field, he had only cleared away the corner! The thought of doing the rest made him want to go back to sleep for three months. At least he had enough room to grow some stuff. He'd just water them and go waste the rest of the day in town or picking berries out of the trees. 

He took some painkillers from his bags and went to work. Once the watering and weeding was done, he built a scarecrow following the directions from a TV show and set it out in the middle of his crop patches. He'd seen the big black birds circling overhead and immediately decided he didn't trust the bastards not to try to make his life more hell.

He made his way into town a while later and was able to introduce himself to just about everyone else throughout the day. For a small town, this place was bursting with more colorful personalities than Carlyle had expected, from the girl who said she liked to hang out in the cemetery to the guy who had placed himself into a self-imposed isolation by the beach in order to focus on his novel. 

It was while he wandered the outskirts that he came across a dilapidated, vine-choked building. While half of him warned against trespassing, his body was already obeying the half that told him to break in and explore. Turned out no "breaking in" was necessary. The front door had been left unlocked. The inside wasn't much better off than the outside. Furniture rotted away and books and ledgers had been flung here and there. The breeze whistled through the cracks in the walls and rustled some chimes hanging in a window. A place like this would have been demolished in the city. He wondered if anyone in town would fine him if they found him here. 

No sooner did he have that thought then Mayor Lewis came in behind him. Just when Carlyle was about to apologize for coming in unannounced, Lewis set about telling him the sad tale of the Community Center. It had been grand, back in the day. This must have been the potential warehouse the manager in JojaMart had been babbling about. Carlyle's jaw set. 

If there was even the slightest chance he could set back Joja Corp. by saving that building, he would. He wanted to throw it in their faces. Sometimes the strength of that conviction startled him. Why did he care that badly? Why did his grudge run so deeply? Maybe it was just the thought of wasted hours and wasted years, when it felt like he was paying them to be able to work there more than them paying him for his time. 

"Don't sign off on that agreement just yet," he told Lewis, who gave him a resigned gaze.

"What more can be done?" Lewis said. "This building is a hazard. Robin reminds me of that every time we meet up by the fountain. It would take a fortune to fix and this town unfortunately doesn't have that kind of funding. Don't take this the wrong way, but it might be a while before you'd even be able to contribute to the cause." He shook his head. "No, dear boy. Don't concern yourself with a place like this. It isn't worth it."

Carlyle opened his mouth to argue when he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Something green and...round? It didn't make sense in a building full of brown mold and mildew. 

"You see that?" he asked.

Lewis blinked. "See what?"

Carlyle glared into the dark corner where he'd seen the movement. "Thought I saw something moving over there."

Lewis chuckled. "This place has been deserted for a long time, Carlyle. I would be amazed if animals  _ didn't _ build their nests in here. I think I'm going to walk back to town. Be careful if you plan to stay. I wouldn't want you to fall through a hole in the floor."

After the Mayor left, a light rain started up. It pattered against the windows and dripped through holes in the ceiling. For some reason, Carlyle didn't want to leave. He poked around the rubble in the remaining rooms. There were some decayed bags of foodstuffs and unlabeled cans in the pantry and the fish tank in the main room was home to spiders instead of fish. The old vault had been cleared out a long time ago. 

There was nothing left in the building but hallowed memories, yet something drew him in and made it hard to leave. He paced around the building, rubbing his jaw in thought. Worse yet, he kept catching glimpses of something and hearing a strange tinkling that sounded oddly like a giggle instead of a bell. 

He had circumvented the entire building and come back to the main room when he stopped dead in his tracks. There was a house in the corner; small and made of clay and sticks, topped with grass. Carlyle cursed under his breath. He was positive no one had stepped foot inside the building while he had been there. The floors were so creaky he would have heard them, not to mention hear somebody set up a house! 

He tapped on the side of the wall just to confirm that it was actually there and that it wasn't some bizarre hallucination. Maybe it had been there and had just been in a shadow, but he liked to think he was a bit more aware than to let something slip passed his notice like a clay beehive that came up to his waist. Something caught his eye inside the door - a golden scroll, upon closer inspection. He retrieved it and tried to open it up. The words looked like someone had put them through a blender. It was almost hard to look at them. He let the scroll roll closed and returned it to where it was sitting before.

This was too much. He pressed his palms into his eyes for a moment. Stress must be getting to him. He'd just moved. Moving was supposed to be one of the most stressful things a person could go through a part from marriage, divorce, or changing jobs. Come to think of it, he'd technically changed jobs too. With a frustrated sound, he left the building and all of its strange giggling and went back into the rain.

~

There were two letters waiting for him the next morning. One from the Mayor with the reward for Carlyle introducing himself to everybody and the other was a piece of parchment with a purple seal. He didn't even know seals were still in use anymore. Or at least if they were, they were used by people much higher up on the status pole than himself.

He tore it open nonetheless. The handwriting was neat with fine loops.

_ Greetings Farmer, _

_ My sources inform me that you've been investigating the old community center on the hill. I can provide you with more information. Come to the stone tower to the west in Cindersnap Forest and I will give you my undivided attention. _

_ M. Rasmodius _

_ Devout Researcher into the Arcane _

By the time he was finished reading, Carlyle's eyebrows were so high they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline. An arcane guy? Like a wizard? This wasn't reassuring, considering all he had run into the day before. Were the villagers playing an elaborate joke on him? Maybe this was some weird initiation ritual for new people in the Valley. He pocketed the note with a sigh. Might be entertaining to play along. 

He headed out to the forest in the early afternoon. He was familiar with the area around the pond from his foraging. He spent an hour or two wandering around, hacking away at the underbrush and rocks in his way. Eventually, he went to go ask Marnie at the ranch if she was familiar with the story. She laughed and pointed him in the right direction. 

"Off to see the Wizard? Well, good luck!"

Carlyle nodded, peering at her corral in thought. The goat from his roof when he'd first arrived was standing in the middle of the pasture, staring at him with narrow pupils and chewing on hay. 

"Anything you can tell me about him?" Carlyle said. "I'd like to know what I'm walking into."

"Oh, don't you worry," Marnie said. "He's an oddball but he won't hurt ya! Don't worry about any weird sounds or smells. We get strange stuff happening around here all the time. It's just him doing a new experiment."

"And what is it he's experimenting on?" Carlyle said. 

"Hopefully, no one I know!" Marnie slapped her knee and laughed. When she caught her breath, she grinned at him. "But seriously. Don't be nervous. He probably just wants you to collect spell ingredients for him."

Carlyle wasn't sure whether or not to believe her or whether it was all part of the scheme. Either way, he picked his way through the forest until he finally spotted the tower's bronze weather vane peeking over the tops of the trees. It was like stepping into a fantasy world. The tower was nestled in a grove with tangling vines and a cobblestone pathway leading right up to the front door. The scent of incense hung heavy in the air.

Carlyle strolled up to the door and rapped on it with his knuckles. The door creaked open after a moment. Taking that as an invitation, he pushed it open the rest of the way and was greeted with a puff of green smoke in his face. 

“Ah, you must be the farmer living up north. Come in, come in,” came a husky voice. A man with purple hair and beard and wearing long, black robes was hunched over an  _ actual _ cauldron. Some sort of green mucus boiled inside, smelling of a blend of spices and...citrus? Carlyle’s nose wasn’t making sense of it. 

“You the one who sent that letter?” Carlyle said.

“Yes. I’ll thank you for not keeping me waiting. So many of my acquaintances, human and spirit, wait for days before answering my summons,” the man said, rolling his eyes. “Despite my attempts to affect things otherwise, I am still limited by the linear flow of time. Efficiency is of the utmost importance, you understand.”

“Yeah, sure,” Carlyle said. 

The man came around the cauldron, his face momentarily illuminated by the glowing, green innards of the cauldron. The symbol on his hat was the same as on the seal of Carlyle’s letter.

“I am Rasmodius...Seeker of the arcane truths. Mediary between physical and ethereal. Master of the seven elementals. Keeper of the sacred cha-...you get the point. Those of Pelican Town refer to me as the Wizard. Quaint, but it will do,” he said. “Your name is Carlyle. Your Grandfather aided me in gathering supplies from time to time.”

“You knew my Pops?” Carlyle said. 

“I’ve lived in this Valley for many years and known the parents of many of the inhabits. The grandparents in some cases and even the great-grandparents, at times,” the Wizard said. He hadn’t stopped to talk to Carlyle for long, opting to peruse his shelves. He found a bottle of yellow powder, uncorked it, and added it to the cauldron. “I felt there would be a return of your family line. Then the elementals told me you had taken notice of them inside of the old community center and I knew there must be some connection. Not everyone can see them, you know.”

“Uh huh...Well, I have no idea what elementals you’re talking about,” Carlyle said. He was peering around the room, partly looking for hiding places in case any other villagers were going to pop out and throw a surprise party.

“I hear doubt in your voice,” the Wizard said, eyeing him. “That’s to be expected from someone who has relocated from an urban environment. The lights and chaos of the city clouds the eye of the beholder. But trust my word, though you could not easily see them, the elementals lived amongst you and your friends.” 

“My friends had some weird habits. I wouldn’t be surprised,” Carlyle said.

“They are curious about the doings of humans. We build odd dwellings and maintain relationships peculiar to their nature,” the Wizard said. “I’ve spent years learning their languages so we could bridge the gap between our worlds. But this is...a lonely business. Not many are open to the endeavours I take on. Your grandfather sensed the presence of the elementals and was willing to assist me in my research at times. I owe him a debt I could not repay before his death, therefore, I shall give my service to you.”

“Uh...thanks,” Carlyle said. “It’s alright. You don’t need to do me any favors.”

“A generous sentiment,” the Wizard said. He stroked his beard. “Perhaps we could arrange something beneficial for us both. I sense in your blood the same magic I sensed in your grandfather’s.”

“There’s something in my blood?”

“Here, I’d like to show you something,” the Wizard continued. He beckoned Carlyle towards an elaborate circle with with candles around the edge. He extended a hand towards it, muttered a few strange words. There was a flash of light that made Carlyle throw up a hand in front of his eyes. He blinked and looked again when the light faded. There, in the center of the circle was a green apple with eyes and limbs.

“What the…” Carlyle said. “Pretty sure that’s one of the things I saw in the community center.” He almost wanted a closer look, but he didn’t want it leaping at him.

“They call themselves the ‘Junimos’...” the Wizard said. “For some reason, these spirits refuse to speak with me. I’ve tried leaving them gifts and befriending them to no avail.” With another wave of his hand and a flash of light, the Junimo was gone. “You have no reason to fear them.”

Carlyle eased up a bit, but he scoffed. “You sure this isn’t a trick? I mean, that’s some circle you’ve got there.” He peered around the room, looking for a projector. 

“I don’t have the patience for smoke and mirrors unless there’s a spirit on the other side,” the Wizard said. “I can tell you won’t be easily convinced.”

“Look, I’ve been around the block more than once and seen some pretty strange shit. You’d be surprised what I’d believe,” Carlyle retorted. “But if that’s the case, how do I know there isn’t really a cult in this town? I mean...no offense, but you’d make a good leader in that get-up.”

“A cult? Is that what you’re worried about?” the Wizard said. “...Relax. There is no deception here. The deity Yoba loves peace and protects its people. Its followers will do no harm. The only ones with ill-intentions towards you would be those attempting to sabotage your efforts at the town fair. And no, no one is going to sacrifice you. Considering your contributions will be vital to the local economy, it would be very self-defeating to offer you up to their god…” He huffed. “...And I thought the  _ children in town _ watched too many movies.”

Carlyle scratched the back of his head. “I like to think I’m prepared.” Something occurred to him right then. “You said you can read squiggly languages, right? I found a golden scroll inside the community center. You think you could read that?”

The Wizard glanced up at Carlyle. “Stay here. I’m going to see for myself. I’ll return shortly. Er...you might want to cover your eyes again.”

Carlyle did as instructed, though he could see a brilliant flash of light from between his fingers. When he looked again where the Wizard had been standing, there was nothing. He ran a hand through his hair. This was beyond a joke now. Unless that cauldron had been spiked to give off smoke to make him see things...well, this was real. All too real.

No sooner did he have time to ponder this than the tower's front door opened to admit the Wizard himself. His entry startled Carlyle and made him swear. 

The Wizard gazed at him levelly. "I found the note. The language is obscure, but I was able to decipher it."

"That was fast," Carlyle said.

The Wizard cleared his throat and continued: “ _ We, the Junimo, are happy to aid you. In return, we ask for gifts of the valley. If you are one with the forest then you will see the true nature of this scroll.” _

He paused, as if to let those words sink in. 

"So...Am I supposed to go live in the woods?" Carlyle said.

Rubbing his temples, the Wizard said, "No. Although, I think I have figured out the arrangement I mentioned before - a way for me to repay my debt to your bloodline and for you to aid both me and the denizens of this valley."

"Go figure. What do you have in mind?" Carlyle said, watching as the Wizard circled the cauldron and sniff the contents in thought.

"I want you to drink this. This infusion contains herbs and ingredients from the forest," he said. "You will drink and let the essence of the forest permeate your body! If my hypothesis is correct, then this may be what is needed to bridge the gap between our world and that of the Junimos."

Carlyle stared at him. "...Not that I'm against trying a new recipe, but you're sure there's nothing...poisonous in there?"

By now, the Wizard was probably expecting an answer like that. "Still suspicious? I shall try some first if it will reassure you."

"...Nah. What the hell? What harm could it do?" Even as he said this, Carlyle felt the weight of a thousand plots screaming at him. Those were famous last words, if there ever was any. Despite this, he joined the Wizard by the cauldron's side. He was handed a wooden cup full of the bubbling green mucus. His nose twitched.

"Bottoms up," he murmured, before he raised it to his mouth. In hindsight, he should have let it cool first, but by the time it registered that the liquid was hot enough to burn the roof of his mouth, the  _ rest _ of the taste hit him. It was like having pine cones and apples and mushrooms all filling him up at once. He shut his eyes and gulped the rest of it down as quickly as possible before his stomach revolted and he spat it back up. He really didn't want to offend a mage or a warlock or...whatever this guy was. When he was finished, he set down the cup and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"So, what's supposed to happen now? I don't feel any different," he said.

"Just wait...wait and feel. Think of the forest. Let it plant its roots deep inside you," the Wizard said.

"I don't know if I really want anything else inside...inside me..." Carlyle began as a strange feeling began to fill his gut. It was a burning sensation that shuddered to life in his core and began to spread outwards, through his limbs and his torso. He'd been high before, when his deadbeat roommates convinced him to shoot up with them during a particularly boring weekend. He had felt everything in sharp contrast, aware of his body and his heart beating and the blood moving in his veins, but also aware of the room and the water droplets condensing on someone's glass of water.

This feeling was like that, only instead of being stuck in a grungy apartment, he felt like he was surrounded by trees, feeling their rough bark on his skin and feeling the breath of the wind in his hair like it must blow through their branches. He suddenly knew what it was like to flourish in the summer, to slowly die from autumn and winter, only to be reborn again in the spring. He could feel animals burrowing inside of him. If the drugs from before had made him feel hollow, the woodsy concoction filled him up until it brimmed over and he blacked out.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but when he woke, he was laying on a large cushion in front of the Wizard's fireplace. He coughed and it got the attention of the Wizard, who was sitting at his desk nearby. 

  
He grinned at Carlyle. "The magic of the forest has awakened in you."


	4. Tough Hands, Warm Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone nearly gets slimed in the saloon and Carlyle gives some advice.

As the parsnips grew, Carlyle wondered if his drinking that weird potion would make them sprout eyes and start chatting with him. When all he heard was a dog barking over the hill, he guessed that he was safe for now. The effects of the potion had faded over the past few days, but sometimes he smelled scents or heard sounds he normally wouldn't have noticed, like the owls swooping over his fields at night or the breeze picking up the sweetness of a patch of dandelions. The latter was a plus when foraging, that was for sure.  
  
At least he wasn't disoriented anymore. He was still able to water the crops and chop down more trees when his hands felt up to the task. He couldn't use the blisters as an excuse forever. The more he worked, the tougher his body would become. By Saturday, he decided he could use a break and headed over to the Stardrop Saloon come the evening. The regulars were there; Pam raised a hoot and Shane nodded in acknowledgment of Carlyle's existence. Willy and Clint had a game of cards going at a table.   
  
Willy had given Carlyle an old fishing rod when they first met. Luckily, Carlyle remembered enough fishing sessions with his Grandfather to know the basics. He managed to scrape enough money together from selling fish, nuts, and berries via the shipment box to afford a beer and dinner (now he was really living the high life!).  
  
Gus was prattling about with Emily and Pam, but he turned his attention to Carlyle before too long. "So? How're you liking it in our corner of the world?"  
  
Carlyle's mind flashed back to the endless trees and rocks of his field and the incident at the Wizard's tower.   
  
"It's...uh...been an adventure," he said.  
  
Gus laughed. "And it's only just begun, I'll bet. You want another beer? This one's on the house!"  
  
Pam glared at them from her end of the counter. "You never give me one on the house!"  
  
"Have you just moved from the city?" Gus said. "Anyway, pipe down. I give you a cold one for your birthday every year and you know it."  
  
Pam chortled and raised her glass. "With many more to come!"  
  
Gus slid a pint to Carlyle, who thanked him and tipped it back.  
  
"You found anyone you fancy yet?" Gus said. Carlyle nearly choked on his drink.  
  
Nearby, Shane frowned. "He's been here about a week and has spoken to everyone in town a grand total of once," he said. "No one knows him."  
  
"Good thing I didn't ask who fancied him, then, eh?" Gus retorted. "I asked who _he_ fancied."  
  
Once Carlyle had coughed his airway free of burning liquor, he gasped. "Guess I...haven't been looking."  
  
"Well, Penny seems to think awfully well of you," Gus said. "She was bragging 'bout you helping her with the kids."  
  
"I carried their books to the clinic," Carlyle said. "I dunno if that counts as helping out with th-"  
  
"Penny? My Penny? My baby girl?" Pam said, loudly enough for the entire saloon to hear. "You watch yerself around my girl!"  
  
"I'm not..." Carlyle managed to get out before he was interrupted again.  
  
"It takes a special kind of person to get with my baby," Pam said. "I've gotta like them first, for one, before they go puttin' their hands all over her."  
  
Gus spread his palms defenselessly. "Nobody's chasing her skirt yet, Pam. Take it easy. I think you've had one too many. How 'bout we slow down?"  
  
Pam huffed and stared at her drink and Emily came around, wiping down the counter.   
  
"There are plenty of fish in this sea," Emily said. "If one skirt's off limits, we've got plenty more!"  
  
Carlyle had no desire to participate in this conversation any more than absolutely necessary, so he stayed quiet. It was Gus who replied.  
  
"Sure, sure! Aside from you and your sister, for instance," he said, to which Emily giggled and swatted at him. "Lessee...who're the single ladies around here? Leah the sculptor, she drops in her some nights. Sometimes she looks lonely. Must be hard moving in from out of town - you'd know how that is." He nodded at Carlyle. "Abigail, she's single too. She plays a mean flute. I get creepy vibes from her, though. She seems adventurous, if you like that sort of thing. And Maru! Works at the clinic as a nurse. Real bright girl. Good with her hands, I'll bet."  
  
"People are trying to _eat_ , you dirty old man!" Emily said. Then she snickered. "I'll bet you don't know which of the guys are available. You’re only interested in the single ladies.”

"You're a cheeky one, you know that?" Gus told her. "I know exactly who's eligible all over this town! Want me to list 'em off to prove it?"   
  
Emily rolled her eyes and polished off a glass. Pam was snoring with her poor face on the counter. Clint and Willy were either doing a very good job to ignore the conversation or they were too absorbed in their game to care. Carlyle was the only one who sat up a little higher.   
  
"There's Shane, for one," Gus said ("Leave me out of this," Shane said.). "We've got Alex, our star athlete. Sam, our wannabe rock star. I'm just kiddin', I hear he wants to start a band. He'll go far. His friend is available too. Sebastian, Robin's son and Maru's brother. I don't think his family knows what to do with him, poor kid."   
  
He was ticking off the number of bachelors on his fingers as he listed them off. Carlyle was trying to attach the names he was hearing to the faces he had met so far.    
  
"The guy living on the beach is free too. Just moved here a year ago. Name's Elliot. Wants to write a book. Wonder if he'd ever try to write a romance..." Gus said. He scratched at the scruff on his jaw. "Oh! Can't forget Harvey. Our ol' doctor's a bachelor too."   
  
Carlyle was a bit surprised at that, though he wasn't sure why. Harvey had seemed well-balanced enough. Carlyle would have expected him to be hitched already. "Really?"   
  
"Oh, sure," Gus said. "Not that I'm judging, mind you. Our own mayor's unmarried, though he's...uh...not on the menu, if you know what I mean..."   
  
"Gus..." Shane said, eyeing the bartender over the rim of his glass. There was a distinct warning in his tone.    
  
"I won't say anything more on the manner, I swear," Gus said, reassuringly.    
  
They clearly knew something Carlyle didn't and he was fine with that. He had a different matter in mind. "About the doctor..."   
  
"Yes? What is it?" Gus turned his attention back to him.   
  
"He's the only medical guy in town, right?" Carlyle said.   
  
"Right you are. Unless you want to trek all the way out to the city for a check-up, I'd get used to him," Gus said. "Don't get me wrong, though, he knows his stuff!"    
  
The door to the saloon opened just then. Gus's eyes flicked up and he smiled. "Speak of the devil," he murmured to Carylye, then he said, more loudly. "Evening, doctor! Here for the weekly special?"   
  
Harvey was righting his hair from the wind as he came over to the counter. "You read my mind, Gus. With a glass of wine, too, if you don't mind."

"Someone's going fancy tonight," Gus said with a chuckle. "Coming right up, doctor."   
  
Carlyle glanced over as Harvey took off his green suit jacket and hung it over the back of his chair. Emily got him set up with a glass of wine. Especially in the saloon's yellowed lighting, it was obvious the doctor was tired. Understandably so if he was the only trained professional doctor other than his nurse in the entire valley. Robin wasn't the only one with premature lines around the eyes.    
  
He caught Carlyle's eye and smiled. "Ah, good evening. Came in for a break, did you? I'm glad. It wouldn't do to overwork yourself.   
  
"Mm," Carlyle said. "Same goes for you."   
  
Harvey chuckled. Carlyle may have been imagining it, but it sounded a bit self-conscious. "I'm used to my workload. Last year was a good year, if anything. I need to be prepared if I don't want any surprises. But I do like to stop in here every so often, just as a reward for surviving another week."   
  
"...You 'n me both," Carlyle said. He'd drained the rest of his beer. Harvey was inspecting his hands from across the distance of the chair between them. "You aren't wearing the bandages any longer. Have your blisters healed, then?"   
  
Carlyle smirked at him. "I thought you were off work."   
  
A pink tinge stained Harvey's cheeks. "Ah...well...I guess sometimes work doesn't always stay at work. I was only curious."   
  
"Fair enough," Carlyle said. He stared into his mug as Emily brought out a fresh bread basket for Harvey. Carlyle had finished off his own meal a while ago. He had come, exchanged a few words with the locals, ate and drank. No reason to stick around much longer. He should head back before it got too late, but for some reason, he was in no hurry to leave.    
  
Gus was trying to wake up Pam so she could head home. Carlyle grinned to himself at the sight and couldn't help but roll his eyes a bit at his own memories doing the same for his former city friends...As luck would have it, the absent-minded gesture directed his gaze towards the rafters where he caught sight of something moving. The shadows were darker by the ceiling, he had to really squint and focus if he wanted to see it again. It looked...slimy. There was a slight shine to it in the dim lighting. And yes, it was definitely moving.    
  
"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Carlyle muttered, openly staring upwards now. Part of him was shocked no one else seemed to be noticing this. Another weird side effect of the potion? He would have tried to point it out to Emily or Gus, but they were busy preparing some food.   
  
"Did you say something?" Harvey asked.   
  
"Well, it's just..." Carlyle began, looking for the right words to make him sound not crazy. He wasn't sure how familiar the general population of the town was with this paranormal crap. But the slime chose that moment to disappear behind a beam, just out of sight. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."   
  
"Are you feeling alright? You look pale," Harvey said.   
  
"I'll live," Carlyle said. "Just need some rest."    
  
Harvey sighed. "If only all ills were cured so easily."   
  
Carlyle humored the doctor with a snort, but his eyes were glued back on the ceiling a bit later. It seemed like a dark patch had spawned in the corner. Of course, it was spawning on an already darkened stretch of wood, but it seemed to be acting differently.    


_Darkness can't act like anything_ , he told himself. Then again, up until the day before, he hadn't thought green apples spirits could dance around either.  
  
Then, just as the slime had been wandering, the dark patch moved _towards_ the slime. Carlyle could only watch as it darted out and seized around the slime, which jiggled as it struggled. The strange shadow dragged it towards a beam of wood located just above the kitchenette. The shadow held the slime over the edge and released it.

But instead of falling, the slime was stretching. It had somehow gotten a hold of the edge of the beam and was stubbornly trying to reel the rest of its body back in.   
  
"You've _really_ gotta be kiddin' me," he muttered again, shifting in his seat. Another look at the rafters confirmed that the shadow was gone. Was this some kind of trick? The shadow had tried to throw the slime down over top Gus’s head. Was the thing trying to get him sick? Carlyle knew he should say something but wondered if Gus would believe him.

Gus looked over at him, curiously, before following his gaze upwards.  “Oh, for the love of... Emily, get me my poker from the fire. We’ve got another slime!”

Emily halted where she was bringing Harvey his soup bowl and peered up. With a yelp, she carefully put the bowl on a nearby counter and tried to _vault_ over the counter to get to the fireplace. Shane only looked disgruntled when she nearly upset his beer.

“You guys see it too?” Carlyle said, almost relieved. He felt a tug on the sleeve of his jacket. Harvey was trying to guide him away from the counter. 

“Oh, heavens yes! They must be getting brave again to come this far from the mines,” Harvey said. They retreated back towards Willy and Clints’ table. Their card game remained undisturbed but for Clint frowning at the slime.

“Knew I should have brought my steel sword tonight,” he said.

“Not to worry! I’ll send this thing packing in a minute!” Gus said. He was pulling out a chair to stand on to get to the counter. The slime was back on the beam and inching its way across. 

Emily had pulled a red-tipped poker from the fire and handed it up to him. “Careful! Don’t start a fire!”

“I know what I’m doing!” he said. “This ain’t the first time this’s happened.”

“Probably won’t be the last,” Willy said.

Gus scowled and waved the hot side of the poker at the slime. It growled and its gelatinous body quivered. Finally, the tip connected with a sizzling sound as well as a terrible squeal. Carlyle couldn’t help but wince at the sound. The slime scooted along towards the rafters, where it disappeared. 

“Aha! I knew it!” Gus said, tracking its progress. “Damn varmint burned a hole in the ceiling.”

“So it's true? They have acidic properties? Oh dear…” Harvey said.

“That’s what Marlon’s been saying,” Clint said. “It’s the reason he’s been having trouble stemming the tide. They spit acid at ya. I’ve been trying to forge something good enough to withstand it.”

Emily sighed, giving Gus a cloth to wipe the sweat off his face. “Someone really ought to go up there and help cut down their number.”

Carlyle considered volunteering, if anything just to see these mines for himself, but before he could open his mouth, Harvey cut in. “No! Most of the people in town aren’t trained for battle. That’s like signing their death warrant.”

“My ore’s in there and the bridge to the quarry is out,” Clint said, frustrated. “I’ll go help Marlon out myself if I have to.”

“Now everyone just settle down,” Gus said. “Worst comes to worst, we get the mayor to bring in someone from out of town to exterminate them.”

Harvey adjusted his glasses, nodding. “Best to have professionals do it.”

“Who’re they going to spare with the war going on, anyway?” Clint said. 

“Oh, just let it rest,” Willy said. “Come on. It’s your hand.”

With Clint grumbling, everyone returned to their seats. Carlyle came back too, although his drink was finished. He wanted to digest all of this. He thought about mentioning the shadow and decided against it. Probably a trick of his eyes against the dark rafters or...something else from the mines. He’d have to check in with Marlon. Everyone in the saloon wanted to forget all this for tonight.

No sooner did he pull his chair back up to the counter than another drink was set in front of him. Gus was grinning at him. 

“This one’s on me too. Consider it my thanks for keeping that slime out of my hair!” he said. “Just don’t tell Pam. Listen to her, snorin’ over there. Old bag slept through the whole thing!”

~

The resident old dear, Evelyn, was hauling around mulch in wheelbarrows for the public gardens one day. Something about seeing her straining in the afternoon sun took a toll on Carlyle’s sympathies and he went over to help her out. Once the gardens and trees were covered, she patted his cheek and invited him to her house for a drink.

“Nothing like a glass of fresh lemonade after a hard day’s work, eh, young man?” Evelyn said. “Mustn’t let such a handsome fellow dry out.”

Carlyle chuckled. “Well, I can’t say no to that.”

Her house was homely and had the good, musty smell of old wood. While Evelyn went to the kitchen, Carlyle hung back in the hallway. A couple of voices were arguing in the living room. Feeling like a snoop, Carlyle peeked in. George had been displaced from his usual space in front of the TV and the lack of alpha waves made grumpy as Doctor Harvey tried to examine him. Having been given the ‘you need to change your lifestyle’ talk plenty of times himself, Carlyle was hard put not to laugh.

“I don’t need a doctor tryin’ to tell me what to do! I’ve stayed alive this long, I’ll keep going,” George said. “Who do you think you are, telling me how to live my life?”

Harvey stepped back with a sigh. “I’m your doctor, George. That’s who I am… And I went to school for eight long years learning how to help people stay healthy. Don’t you think I’d know a think or two about you?”

George scoffed and caught sight of Carlyle in the hall. “Well, I might not be running around chopping down trees and tilling ground like him, but I think I’m alright.”

“Don’t mind me. Just dropping by,” Carlyle said.

Harvey looked a bit flustered. “Ah, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be watching like this. These check-ups are supposed to be private.”

“Not so fast! I’d like to get a second opinion from this young guy,” George said, now turning his wheelchair to face Carlyle.

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses. “Very well...If you say so.”

“You want my advice about what to do? Well, lessee…” Carlyle stepped into the living room and leaned against the door frame. “I’m no specialist, but I know living the sedentary life is no way to live. I didn’t go anywhere when I worked in a cubicle. Just sat on my ass for ten hours idea with chips for lunch and dinner. Just about drove me nuts.”

George snorted and Harvey was watching him steadily. There was something in his expression Carlyle couldn’t quite place.

Carlyle gestured towards Harvey. “Do what the Doc says. It can’t hurt, anyway.”

Harvey’s face softened considerably. “Thanks, Carlyle. You see, George? I’m only trying to help you.”

George fidgeted for a moment. “Fine, fine. I’ll do what you say doctor. Arm exercises and all that…If it’ll calm everybody down.”

Evenlyn came in with a tray of glasses. “Since everyone is in one place, I thought I’d make some for all of you.” She winked at Carlyle. “I hope my husband isn’t giving anyone any trouble.”

~

Harvey and Carlyle left the house at the same time later on, leaving the couple to their evening. As they went down the walkway, Harvey turned to him. “I should thank you for your help. Not all of my patients are entirely cooperative. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it, Doc,” Carlyle said. 

“Although...I must ask that you don’t talk about the details of the visit. A patient’s visitations are confidential, you see,” Harvey said.

“My lips are sealed. Won’t tell a soul.”

Harvey paused, with a slight smile. “Helping people seems to come to you so easily…”

“What makes you say that?” Carlyle said, genuinely curious.

“Well, first Penny, then warning Gus about the slime, now me...I even saw you assisting Evelyn with those huge bags from the window,” Harvey said.

Carlyle scratched the back of his head. “I mean...I wouldn’t say all that makes me a hero…” He let his arm fall to his side. “These people are different from the ones I knew before moving here. They were nice to me, so I guess I’m returning the favor.”

“I can understand that...Lord knows I met my fair share of difficult  people before coming here, too,” Harvey said. “Time moves more slowly here. The war seems so far away, doesn’t it?” Suddenly, he looked up. “Tell me something. Did you really eat nothing but chips for lunch and dinner for weeks on end?”

Carlyle felt a prickle at the back of his neck. “That was a bit exaggerated, maybe.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes. “How exaggerated?”

“Sometimes I had nachos with cheese,” Carlyle said. “Chili too, if I had an extra can.”

“That can’t be true. You would be malnourished.”

“That’s what supplements are for. I thought a doctor would know all about that,” Carlyle said.

“The amount of supplements required to make up a complete diet would be…” Harvey said, sounding exasperated. “No, nutrients should be obtained through a _well-balanced diet_.”

“Yeah, I know,” Carlyle said. “Look, Doc, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t heard all this before. Things weren’t perfect, y’know? I just had to get by.”

After a moment, a bit of the tension eased out of Harvey. He looked away. “Yes...I know. Just...try to do better. I know everyone has their weaknesses. I do too. I don’t want to sound like I’m scolding anyone. I’ve just learned all of the things that could go horribly wrong with a person’s health. I don’t want anyone to go through something terrible.”

A spring evening in the middle of town was the last place Carlyle had been expecting to have a conversation like this with the local doctor. He shrugged. “You’re not bad.” And he was surprised to find he meant it. “At least you actually care. You’re not in it for the money. Unless I’m missing something.”

“N-No! I’d never take advantage of a patient just for money,” Harvey said, appalled.

“Guess that’s our answer,” Carlyle said, grinning lopsidedly. “You go keep everyone alive and eventually I’ll get to the point where my farm can keep them fed. Sound good?”

Harvey regarded him for a moment. “Agreed. Sounds good.”


	5. Eggs and Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The town never has trouble finding ways to keep its people busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading this story this far! I'm sorry this update took so long! This last month was shaky, but I'm trying to improve my writing habits. Your comments and kudos are such a joy to read and give me motivation to keep working!

Pelican Town really liked its festivals, as Carlyle came to find out. Mayor Lewis was always the first one to let him know several days ahead of time when one was being held, either through the mail or in person. The sense of community here was a lot more tight-knit than the city, where individual neighborhoods and families were more likely to close off a street or two if they wanted to celebrate something. There were art-fairs in the ritzier sections, sure, but those catered towards the rich, who were willing to pay big money for a huge piece of canvas to hang over their fireplace.    
  
In the Valley, people let their children roam freely in the streets, looking for eggs (and no one even questioned the safety of said eggs!) It was touching, in a way. There was still some innocence left in the world. He wandered over, mostly because Lewis had slipped in that Gus would be supplying free food and Carlyle was running low on the welcoming gifts from the villagers. He had the chance to wander around and greet some people before a basket was shoved into his hand by a cute, purple-haired girl with a dark jacket and tunic combo who took his arm, saying, "We need another person for the Egg Hunt. Get over here!"   
  
He found himself dragged over to the center of the town square where the ring of participants were waiting with the Mayor. Vincent and Jas were the only kids and seemed more interested in pinching each other than finding eggs. Maru was trying to get them to stop. Sam had thrown his basket over his shoulder and grinned when he saw Abigail dragging Carlyle behind her.    
  
"Hey, you got the new guy to fill in?" he said.   
  
"Well, since Sebastian's being a butthead, he's our only option," Abigail said, finally letting Carlyle's arm breathe.    
  
Sebastian was leaning against a pile of crates nearby. He folded his arms. "Eggs aren't my thing."   
  
"Nothing's your thing," Sam said. "You sure you don't want some eggs? You can make them emo too, if you want. Just draw faces on them and give them black eyeliner and voila!"   
  
Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up."   
  
Maru yelped and covered Vincent's ears with her hands. "Sebastian! Don't swear in front of the kids!"   
  
Jas looked up at her and blinked. "It's okay. We've heard adults use bad words. Sometimes I hear Shane use them when he's talking about the store where he works."   
  
"Well, tell your Aunt Marnie to tell him to stop," Maru said.   
  
"But she uses them too..."   
  
Abigail and Sam were trying not to lose it.    
  
"You're fighting a losing battle," Sam told Maru, who only huffed.   
  
Shortly after, Lewis fired a popgun to signal the start. While the rest of the adults mingled, the Egg Hunt went on around them. The kids had the advantage of slipping into small spaces. Abigail had the advantage of being slender and fast. Sam was quietly slipping painted eggs from the food table.    
  
Carlyle was very quickly resigning himself to losing. He was still trying to learn his way around town, so it was easy for him to get lost. At one point, Sebastian kicked an egg towards him.    
  
"You looked desperate," Sebastian said. "It really doesn't matter how many you find, though. Abigail's gonna win. That's why I didn't bother."   
  
Sure enough, every time Carlyle thought he spotted an egg, Abigail was already there harvesting it. She had some weird sense for locating them, it seemed. Carlyle stopped in the shade to take a breather, peering down at his measly three eggs. He'd still eat them. Even from behind the fence, he could hear the gentle murmur of voices and music from the town square.    
  
He toweled off the sweat from his face and his gaze fell on a yellow and red polka-dotted egg nestled into grassy cranny between fence posts. Hard to believe he found one that Abigail's freak senses hadn't lead her to. He bent and reached for it only to draw back when a pair of beady eyes were suddenly staring back at him from the grass. It was one of those green apple sprites Rasmodius had shown him a while back. His mind was trying to recall the name even as the creature wrapped its stick-like arms around the egg and started sprang off down the path.    
  
_ Jackson, Jolip _ . Carlyle took off after it. Damn thing wasn't going to steal his egg!  _ Jefferson. Jordino _ . The thing was fast. It glanced behind itself and squeaked when it saw Carlyle chasing it down. It ran faster and turned the corner, giggling.    
  
_ Fucking - Junimo! _   
  
He nearly ran into Harvey, who was standing by some bushes, idly picking berries. Carlyle skidded to a halt before he crashed headlong into the doctor. Harvey, looked up, startled into dropping a number of berries.   
  
"Sorry! Sorry," Carlyle said, quickly. He was panting a bit. Sweat stung at his eye a bit and he fumbled to wipe it away. "Should watch where I'm going, eh?"   
  
"It's alright, no harm done! You have remarkable reflexes, really," Harvey said. "But are you all right? You're out of breath. I know the Egg Hunt is very competitive but there's no need to exhaust yourself."   
  
"Tell that to Abigail..." Carlyle said, under his breath. "You didn't...uh...see an egg around here, did you?"   
  
"I can't say I have. None that haven't already been collected, anyway,” Harvey said.   
  
Damn. The Junimo may as well have blinked out of sight. He'd let it go for now, but that was  _ his egg _ .   
  
"You look flushed, too," Harvey said, tapping his chin. "Are you wearing sunscreen while you work? As it gets closer to summer, it's even more important. With your skin tone, you won't burn as easily, but that doesn't mean it can't happen!"   
  
"Yeah, Doc, I know," Carlyle said, with a lop-sided smile.   
  
"Oh, listen to me talk. I need to learn when to take my doctor's hat off." Harvey sighed. "I'm holding you up. You should get back to the game."   
  
Carlyle shrugged. "I'm probably going to lose. What are you doing back here alone?"   
  
Now Harvey looked a bit nervous. "Oh, just...ah...Thought I'd take a breather. A combination of wine and the sun, I think."   
  
"Oh yeah. I'd watch the punch, too," Carlyle said, his smile widening as he remembered Pam whispering to him slyly that she had slipped something into it.   
  
"Whatever for?" Harvey said, confused.   
  
"Nothing. It's mostly pulp. Water's better for you anyway, right?" Carlyle said.   
  
"Yes, that's true!" Harvey scratched his head. "Just because I've taken off my doctor's hat doesn't mean you have to wear it, you know."   
  
The sound of a horn came from the direction of the town square.    
  
"Mm...guess it's game over," Carlyle said. He sighed and squared his shoulders. "Time for the guillotine."   
  
Harvey sputtered, "Th-They're not going to do anything to you just because you lost!"   
  
"I know," Carlyle said. "It was a joke, Doc."   
  
Harvey flushed and adjusted his glasses. "Right. I knew that."    
  
As they turned to leave, Carlyle caught sight of something underneath the bushes. a polka-dotted egg. He bit back a curse and grabbed it.   
  
Harvey peered over at it in astonishment. "Has that been there all this time?! I could have sworn it wasn't there fifteen minutes ago or else I would have pointed it out to you. I wasn't trying to hide it..."   
  
Carlyle dropped the egg into his basket. "Don't worry, I believe you."   
  
The day ended with Abigail taking home the prize, just as Sebastion (and everyone else) had predicted. Caroline and Pierre clapped the loudest. She blew a kiss towards them and bounced over to Sam and Sebastian to gloat. Carlyle idly wondered how many houses would be getting egged that night.   
  
Carlyle stuck around until the light faded and gave a hand cleaning up the chairs and tables. In return, Gus let him take home the rest of the egg salad. Considering leftovers had been his main form of leftovers for a few years now, he was fine with this.    
  
The lamps flickered on while he was starting to walk home. He was strolling by the saloon when he heard the clang of a tin trash bin and a low murmuring. He paused and squinted into the shadow, his fingers snaking into his pocket and wrapping around his switchblade.   
  
"Somebody there?"   
  
Someone was stooped over the trash can, a man with long, scraggly hair and beard who wore a yellow tunic that had been worn into rags.    
  
"Eh? Don't mind me," the man said. His voice was gruff, but clear. "I'm not hurtin' anyone. Just looking for something to eat. People throw away lots after festivals."   
  
"I'll bet," Carlyle said. "You live around here? What's your name?"   
  
The man hesitated and then gestured towards the mountain. "I'm Linus...Got a tent behind the carpenter's house. The cliff has a nice view." He paused. "You won't tell anyone I was diggin' through the trash, will you?"   
  
It was Carlyle's turn to hesitate. "Nah, I won't. It's a shame for all that food to go to waste."   
  
"Heh, at least someone understands," Linus said. "I'm just movin' on, a'ight? I won't do it again."

“Yeah, I hear you. You have a good evening?” Carlyle said. He held up a hand in goodbye and continued down the street. He didn’t go too far before he heard the clanging of a tin garbage pail being opened again. If anyone asked, he’d blame the raccoons.

~

The days leading up to the Flower Festival were much the same as the Egg Festival. Notices and flyers appeared on the poles throughout town. Barrels of flowers appeared sporadically on the walkways. The streets smelled of tulips and summer spangles and cinnamon apple pies, which resulted in Carlyle lurking around town a bit more. 

He was on the fence about going to the festival or not, particularly when the word “dance” was thrown around by gaggles of giggling girls swarming the corners. Evelyn asked him if he was planning to go one day and he said he wasn’t sure. She smiled and slipped in that Gus would be cooking. She would make sure a container of leftovers was sent home with him if he came.

_ They were figuring him out. _ Carlyle chuckled and said he would probably show his face after all. He dug around his things for a shirt nice enough to pass off as formally casual. He hadn’t needed dress shirts in the city. His best one had been eaten by moths and he’d never bothered replacing it. 

He was about to settle for his usual t-shirt-jacket combo when he remembered his Jojo Corp. work shirt. Plain, white, button up. Completely stainless. If management caught you with spots, you disappeared. The thought of wearing one again made him want to grind his teeth, but he threw it on when the morning of the festival arrived nonetheless. It had somehow managed to stay pristine and ironed. The magic of Jojo. He grumbled and combed his hair. 

He wasn’t expecting a knock on the door, much less for it to be Marnie. She was wearing a flower crown and there were Blue Jazz blossoms woven into her braid. She looked Carlyle up and down when she saw him. 

“Hey, you clean up good, guy,” she said. “You going to the festival?”

“That’s the plan,” Carlyle replied.

“I was hoping to catch you before you left,” Marnie said, grinning.

“You wanting to ask me to dance?”

Marnie gave a loud bark, “You’re funny and I don’t mean that in a bad way. No, I came because I found this dog wandering between your farm and my ranch and she don’t wanna leave. No collar or anything. I thought she would wander on home but she never did.”

Behind her, there was a large, tan, boxer-lab mix sniffing the ground and scratching at patches of grass. She looked up at Carlyle with a pair of dusty brown eyes, lips drawn back into a grin with tongue lolling.

“Is that so? Has she got a name?” Carlyle said.

“It’s whatever you want it to be. She’s yours if you wanna keep her,” Marnie said. “If not, I’ll take her to a shelter out of town.”

“Nah, leave her here,” Carlyle said, maybe too quickly. His grandfather and parents had both had dogs. It was too long since he’d had one around. Having a dog in the city was a nightmare without money or the right kind of schedule. Jojo had made sure his shifts were extra long. 

He crouched down and held out a hand. The dog clambered up the steps and strode passed his hand. She went right up to lick his face.

“Lookit that! She loves you!” Marnie said. “I’ll leave you to it. I have to get Jas and my nephew into some decent clothes before we go to the festival.”

The dog was trying to put her paws on Carlyle’s shirt to gain leverage to his face. He held her paws in his hands to prevent dirt streaks. He didn’t want to have to change again.

“Good luck,” he told Marnie. “I’ll see you down there.”

As soon as Marnie left, the dog rushed around the inside of the cottage to take inventory of everything with her nose. Carlyle got down a metal bowl and filled it with water from the sink. When he set it down, she stuck her face in. By the end of her drink, half of the contents had sloshed onto the floor. 

“We’ll...keep the bowl outside for you from now on,” Carlyle told her. 

The dog sat down, panting happily at him. Water and drool dripped from her mouth. 

If Carlyle had expected to go to the Flower Festival alone, it wasn’t long before he was proven wrong. The dog wouldn’t let him out of her sight. He tried to leave her inside the farm’s gate and she started whining with a sound that cut right to his heart. His  _ other _ weakness. With a sigh, he opened the gate and let her trot down the path after him. 

He could tell which direction the festival was in from the scent of flowers and the petals sprinkled down the dirt path through Cindersnap Forest. The dog raced back and forth, sniffing bark and patches of mushrooms. 

“Auntie, look! A doggie!”

The pair of them had caught up to Marnie, Jas, and Shane, who probably traveled the same path to the Flower Festival. Jas released Marnie’s hand and rushed over to pet the dog, who met her halfway. It was the happiest Carlyle had seen the girl since he arrived at the valley. 

“Well, I see I’m the one who found your date for you!” Marnie called to Carlyle. 

“She wouldn’t stay behind,” Carlyle said. 

“So says you,” Marnie said. “You fell in love when you first saw her! I know it when I see it. It was the same with Shane and my chickens.” She elbowed Shane, who just grumbled and stuck his hands in his pockets. “So? Has she got a name?”

Carlyle rubbed his chin in thought. “Whiskey. Because I need more of it around.”

Shane smirked. "Sounds good to me."

Jas was giggling while Whiskey licked her hands and face. Finally, Marnie made a pouting Jas get up so they could keep going.

There were flowers everywhere - woven into the fences, adorning the booth at the far end of the field. Haley, whom Carlyle had spoken to only once before and only then to have her make fun of the dirt on his shirt, was spinning her skirt around in the middle of the field. Emily was examining the amount of billowing it had.

Sam was already in the suit he was supposed to wear for the dance and Sebastian was eyeing it distastefully. It wouldn't be long before Robin forced him into one too. Abigail was taking great pains to avoid her mother, who was carrying around a white dance dress for her.

Most of the other villagers were mingling and admiring the blossom displays. Or admiring Whiskey, who was doing her best to make friends with everybody. Gus gave Carlyle some beef scraps to bait her with so she wouldn't jump on anybody. Carlyle didn't mind since she was distracting them from bothering him about the dance. He was good to watch and maybe grab a beer, but he couldn't say he was fond of dancing. 

He had absolutely no desire or intent to ask anyone to dance. It was like Shane had said in the bar some nights ago, nobody knew him. He didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable by asking them to be his partner for a dance he didn't even know the steps too. Maybe he would change his mind in a year or two, but for now, he would content himself with just watching.

The mayor had set aside enough funds to hire a quartet. The horn player blew a phrase to give the signal that it was time for the dancers to gather in the center of the field. When they had arranged themselves, Carlyle counted the heads of all the bachelors and bachelorettes from the town. Abigail and Sebastian looked to be more interested in making faces at each other than focusing on the task at hand.

This wasn’t going to be anything like a night at a club. Just as Carlyle was about to walk off the field, Mayor Lewis decided to call after him and ask if he was sure he didn’t want to dance. Carlyle just laughed and waved the offer aside before plopping down underneath a large oak tree with Whiskey. It wasn’t a deserted space. Emily was there weaving flower stems together.

“I’m surprised you’re not out there,” Carlyle said, off-handedly.

Emily smiles, but didn’t look up at him. “I’d love to but...”

“Can’t find a partner?” Carlyle said. Whiskey put her head in his lap and he scratched behind her ears.

“Yes...and no,” Emily said. She tucked a loose tulip behind her ear. “Haley really likes to be the Flower Queen. One year when we were teenagers, the festival hosts thought my dancing was really good and decided to make me the Flower Queen. Haley didn’t talk to me for two weeks.”

Carlyle frowned. “Oh...I see.”

“I mean, don’t get the wrong idea!” Emily said, quickly. “My sister wouldn’t be so petty as to let a dance come between family. She’s not a bad person! The Flower Festival is just important to her, I guess. I always thought of it as her time to shine. I just don’t want to be a cause for contention, you know?” She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

The music had started and lilting chords met their ears over the field. The kids had been given baskets of flower petals to toss into the wind and scatter around the dancers, who were swaying and twirling in near-perfect sync according to steps they all knew by heart from years of practice. It was mesmerizing to watch. The dance embodied everything slow and melodious about the town and its people. Carlyle heard Emily sigh with longing. 

“You should shoot for it next year,” he told her. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself too.”

Though even as he said this, he caught a glimpse of Haley and could see what it was that intimidated her sister. Haley’s blond waves and flowing skirt were only pieces to the puzzle that made her the main spectacle of the festival. She was positively radiant.

“I guess so...” Emily said, “But if I dance, then you have to as well.”

Carlyle blinked. “Why me?”

“Because the Mayor will complain that there are too many wallflowers,” Emily said, with a giggle. Before Carlyle could reply, she added, “And no, your dog can’t be your dance partner.”

Carlyle grumbled. “Haven’t you heard of dog-dancing competitions?”

“Your partner has to be  _ human _ . We’ll teach you the steps, don’t worry,” Emily said.

At least Carlyle had a whole year before he had to worry about any of that. He let his mind wander as the music picked up the pace, the movements of the dancers becoming more lively. His eyes fell on Doctor Harvey and Maru. This was clearly not their first time as partners, by the looks of how easily they fell in step with each other. 

“I didn’t think the Doc would like dancing,” Carlyle said. 

“Who, Doctor Harvey? Oh yeah, he dances every year,” Emily said.

“Always with Maru?”

“Yes, but there’s nothing going on between them other than a professional relationship. I don’t think her father would approve of the age difference. He’s a bit protective of her,” Emily said. “So don’t worry, there’s nothing to stop you from making a move.”

Carlyle scoffed. “I don’t know. Maru’s nice and all, but I wouldn’t want to go up against her dad if what you say is true.”

“When did I saw it was Maru you could make a move on?” Emily said. 

A strange heat rose to Carlyle’s face. “What are you talking about?”

Emily smiled mischievously. “I’m just saying that you didn’t start blushing until Doctor Harvey came into the picture.”

Carlyle was flustered and he was normally /never/ flustered. That knowledge only served to make him even more flustered. Glancing back over at the field of dancers didn’t help, because his gaze seemed to pick out Harvey instantly as a result of their conversation. Harvey was laughing and very much pink in the cheeks, though that was more likely from physical exertion than what was ailing Carlyle. 

Some part of his mind chose just then to helpfully supply,  _ It wouldn’t be the first time. _

True, he wasn’t opposed to it...but... He didn’t want to finish that thought.

“You...” He began. He peered down at Whiskey and then pointed at Emily. “Go get her, girl!”

Emily squealed. “Yeah, come here, girl!”

Whiskey lifted her head at Carlyle’s command, yawned, and lazily rolled onto her back. Emily cooed and began to rub Whiskey’s exposed belly. 

“Some attack dog.” Carlyle huffed. The dance was finishing up. With their conversation still fresh, Carlyle spared one last glance at Harvey. For once he looked...happy and carefree. Maybe it was the distance or Harvey’s grin, but there were no signs of the premature lines around his eyes. Now Jas wasn’t the only one whom Carlyle had seen happy for the first time in weeks.


End file.
